


the stars are nothing (compared to your constellations of freckles)

by fragileizy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Adrien wants to tell Marinette, Established Relationship, F/M, Marichat, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, adrien agreste freaks out about telling marinette, did the author write 7k words just because she wanted to write about camping? YEAH, fluff and comfort, nino is going to go deaf from how loud his music is, secret santa gift, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragileizy/pseuds/fragileizy
Summary: “I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable. Alya’s just been pressuring me to pair up with you since the beginning of time, it feels like.” She ducked her head, shy. Her cap’s strings bobbed at the movement, and she pulled at her collar as if she were uncomfortable. “I used to have a huge-- huge-- crush on you when we were younger. She took hold of it and has been running with the idea that we’re perfect for each other ever since then.”He nearly choked on his drink. “Really?”“It was embarrassing.” She placed the cup down and rubbed her fingers together for warmth. “B-- but trust me, the crush is gone now, don’t worry.”“G--gone?” Was the sky spinning, or was he just seeing things? Was he melting? Even while sitting he felt like the world had been pulled out from underneath him. She used to have a crush on him. She used to have a crush on him. Only to give it up to-- to-- date Chat Noir. His breath crumbled in his lungs, suffocating and painful in the cold air.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 8
Kudos: 288





	the stars are nothing (compared to your constellations of freckles)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookycitrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookycitrine/gifts).



> happy holidays! i hope you had a good holiday break. happy new year's, too!
> 
> this is a gift fic to my wonderful friend SpookyCitrine for our secret Santa.
> 
> please enjoy!!!!

the stars are nothing (compared to your constellations of freckles)

* * *

_"I am a fan of cozy stuff, coffee shop AUs, winter themes..."_

* * *

He heard her first before actually seeing her. His back turned to their tent in the cool, chilly night-- he knew just by the sound of her voice she had tucked herself into her knitted cap, and layered long sleeves to keep the cold air from permeating into her skin. “Oh-- Hi. Can’t sleep, Adrien?”

He poked a bit at the firepit with a metal prong, watching the flames lick the sides of the sticks he’d put inside the bowl the way Nino had taught him to do. He sat back onto his little floor cushion, turning just so to catch a hint of Marinette’s pink lips pulled into a shy smile as she zipped the tent behind her closed. 

He shook his head, warm in the chest as Marinette pulled out another cushion from the small laundry bag they had brought to store them in, and she sat close to the fire. Close enough for him to wrap his arms around her, if he was any bolder, or if he was any less terrified. “Not yet. Nino is moving too much, and I can’t find his phone to stop the music blaring from his headphones. He’s going to go deaf in his sleep, one day. What are you doing out here?”

She laughed to herself, rubbing her hands together, trying to keep herself warm. He wished he could reach over to her and warm them for her-- but he was nothing more than a stranger to her. He turned his attention back to the fire to keep himself from acting on impulse. “Oh-- well-- It’s embarrassing to admit, really.”

He smiled into the collar of his sweater. “Try me.”

Always up for a challenge, Marinette’s eyes sparkled as she took his bait. “I move a lot in my sleep, too. I’m a hugger.”

“Oh really?” Adrien wanted nothing more than to tell her that he knew exactly that. He knew what Marinette looked like tucked under his chin, arms somehow making it to his hair and petting behind the ears. The sweet smell of milk soap on her skin making up for the headbutts he’d get as she tossed and turned in his arms. The way to only manage to get her to hold still for even a brief period of time was to sleep on top of her, blanketing her in his own weight. 

He knew that she hated his fake snoring. He wasn’t sure if he did it for some backwards irony to make up for the lack of sleep he always got, but he loved the laughter he got out of it. 

He knew that her laughter was contagious past nine at night-- where her smile would take form into one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen. 

He knew that when she finally did sleep and finally did stop moving for the night her weight was comforting on him-- assuming that somehow she’d flipped their positions throughout the night to rest her head on the space on his shoulder. She’d always complained about the sleekness of his hexleather costume and how it was impossible for her to feel comfortable without slipping off, and yet she fell asleep for hours on him without falling off.

He knew that her hair tickled his nose when she slept, and that he only slept well when he could smell the easy scent of her shampoo pressed up against him.

And he knew that Marinette only slept well when she could press the meat of her palm on the space just below his clavicle, letting her hand rest where his chest rose and fell.

Marinette sat back, humor lining her own voice, completely oblivious to the way Adrien was buzzing in his seat with yearning. “Oh yeah. Alya hates it-- she feels claustrophobic whenever she sleeps near me. So I’m letting her get some sleep before I head back in. H--How long have you been out here for?”

“I’m not sure. An hour, I think?” Adrien poked at the fire again, flipping one of the sticks over to the other side and watching the fresh bark crumble and burn. Ever since they’d tucked in for the night, he hadn’t been able to sleep. It’d been a long while since he had to sleep without Marinette with him, and the experience was foreign. 

His hands had gravitated so much towards the other heat source in bed-- Nino-- looking for a hand to hold or someone’s neck to nuzzle. He’d nearly pulled Nino onto him like he was used to doing with Marinette, and while he was sure Nino wouldn’t mind, Adrien had left the tent before it had gotten embarrassing. He missed her warmth. He didn’t know heartache could be so strong.

Marinette fiddled with her phone, swiping through her conversation on her apps, waiting for the circle bar to finish loading and refresh for new messages. Nothing. Adrien tried not to pay attention to what was on her phone-- _he was just a friend, she didn’t know him--_ but he couldn’t help himself watch her refresh their conversation over and over again on a blackened messenger app, lilac pink chat bubbles jumping back and forth on her screen with every refresh. Waiting for a response from him. But not Adrien. She sighed to herself, biting her bottom lip, accepting the lack of internet. “I guess there’s no signal out here?”

“I tried sending out a couple of messages already,” He nodded, admitting to her face that he had tried to respond. She didn’t know he was referring to that. “Nothing went through.”

“Oh, wow. The service here must be a lot worse than I thought. I hope we don’t need to contact anyone this weekend.” Marinette crossed her legs in front of her, wiping her palms on her pajama pants. Chat Noir prints dotted all on the legs-- a gift from him last christmas. He’d bought it off of the original fan merch website after spending a while looking for what to get her. She’d laughed about it, given Chat Noir a glare that had dissolved into laughter as he had opened his own gift and confetti had ruptured out of the small box.

He loved the bed slippers she had given him, and always made sure to hide it away under his bed or in his closet whenever his friends came over. It wasn’t a gift for Adrien. It was a gift for Chat Noir-- and he made sure to keep it away from his civilian friends. The mint green color for the bunnies was incredibly endearing.

She wore her own gift for laughs sometimes, always finding it incredibly humorous that he’d gone out and bought his own merch. He always made sure to pepper her face with kisses every time she wore it, telling her that she looked like she was his biggest fan. It never failed to make her laugh to the point of losing her breath. Adrien never felt so far away from her than sitting right next to her in front of the fire.

It made him want to cry that Marinette had put it on willingly, unknowing that he was here, most likely for the simple reason to have a bit of him with her while she left the city for the weekend. Adrien blushed to himself, staring away from Marinette’s hands, who he’d gotten entranced to looking at the way they moved. He wished he could hold her hand. His voice felt weak. “W--well I’m sure we won’t need to call anyone for a while. We brought enough food to last for a week, Nino’s decision. If we hike up more of the mountain tomorrow, we’ll probably have more signal.”

A private smile filtered to her face, one that he shouldn’t be able to read. But he knew everything about Marinette now. She was excited to have service. She wanted to text him. She curled her legs in closer to her, holding herself tight, resting her tired eyes on her knees. The small lock of hair that escaped her cap fell from her shoulder, spilling softly onto her collarbone. 

Adrien tried not to stare, the words he so desperately wanted to say and had practiced for the entire night getting stuck at the edge of his throat. He couldn’t do it. Coward. Marinette would hate him, wouldn’t she? She’d trusted her entire life with Chat Noir. But he was a nobody to her when he was Adrien.

“I won’t be able to send a goodnight text tonight.” Marinette murmured to herself, a habit she had when she was nervous. Adrien wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her-- regardless of her being right next to him. He wondered if he’d be able to tell her like he had planned to. His mouth refused to move.

He pretended not to hear her, favoring on bringing the subject back to the cold. He poked a bit more at the fire, letting a fresh new stick fall into the pit, enjoying the way the flame licked the surface. “Hey, I think there’s hot chocolate left in the container. Do you want to share the rest of it?”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. Let me go find it. It’s in the cooler, right?” The fire coated her cheeks rosy pink. She’d gotten so much better at communicating with Adrien him the last two years ever since Chat Noir him had shown up at her doorstep. And while she was finally able to maintain eye contact with Adrien without squeaking, she was always outspoken with him whenever he was covered in hexleather as Chat Noir-- always so opinionated and passionate. Adrien couldn’t help himself by falling in love. Smitten as a kitten.

Marinette would’ve loved that pun. He wished he could tell her it.

He poked at the fire listlessly, trying to hype himself up to tell her the truth. She deserved to know. She deserved to know that it was him. The boy who showed up at her door every night was nothing more than her classmate that she had managed to finally stop sputtering in front of. He wanted to tell her that he loved her outside of his suit. He wanted to tell her that he wanted to be with her always, hexleather or genuine skin. He wanted to fall asleep with her tucked underneath his head.

He continued to poke at the fire. He couldn’t tell her.

Marinette found her way back over to him and she pushed her floor pillow closer to him with a foot, trying to balance her phone in one hand and the camping insulation bottle in the other. Her smile shy, she sat down before she had even made up her mind. Adrien tried not to scare her off.

She passed him a cup, and Adrien wept on the inside at their fingertips touching each other. Why was he such a coward? Why couldn’t he turn to her and tell her-- “Adrien?”

“Sorry,” He dropped the metal fire poker in his hand, leaning forward to give her better attention. She held the hot chocolate bottle in between two mittened hands, smile soft and curious on her face. He tried not to dissolve into a blush, cursing himself for letting his thoughts run away without him. He bit the inside of his cheek as she poured his drink for him, the sound of the fire crackling and hissing loud against the silence of their breaths.

He hadn’t been joking when he had said that Nino’s music had been too loud. Even when Adrien had originally gotten over trying to cuddle with Nino under the covers, the music blasting in his headphones was enough to wake Adrien up from the edge of sleep. Leaning back against the fallen log, cradling the cup of hot chocolate in his hands and looking into the fire, Adrien reasoned that he could fall asleep in the position he was in. He was sure his back would protest the hike they would go on the following day if he did, but at least he wouldn’t be waking up to his hand searching for body warmth.

“I feel kind of bad for the both of them.” Marinette pulled her legs up to put her chin on, hugging her knees with her arms.

“Who?” Adrien took a sip out of his cup. Lukewarm and agonizingly sweet. Perfect for the chill.

He could see from the corner of his eyes that Marinette was gazing into the fireplace, the strings from her cap falling across her shoulders. He wanted to reach over and tuck that stray piece of hair under her cap. “Alya and Nino. I feel kind of bad that they have to sleep in separate tents because of us.”

“I’m sure they don’t mind it.” He kept his tone polite, trying not to devolve into his usual banter of flirts. _I wouldn’t mind sharing another bed with you._ He was Adrien. He was just a friend. She didn’t know him well enough. She didn’t know how well their fingers intertwined.

A short chilly breeze cut through their conversation, sending a plume of smoke from the fire into their general direction. The two of them parted, jumping quickly off their cushions as they tried not to laugh too hard. The smell of smoke burned in his nose and stained his clothes. No doubt his hair smelled like smoke, too. He should’ve worn a hat to keep the smoke smell off. Too late now.

Marinette laughed from the other side of the firepit, the light bright enough for him to see how sparkly her blue eyes were. He could probably see stars in them, if he got close enough. “Was that the fire telling us to go to bed?”

“Not a chance,” He kept his voice low, and took a sip from his cup. It just barely tasted like it was on fire, which was a good sign. “But it may have been the fire telling us to get warmer. It’s freezing out here.”

As if she’d noticed only when he said it, she nodded in agreement, suddenly shivering under her three layers of clothes. He hoped she wouldn’t catch a cold from how much shivering she was doing.

He passed her the handle of his mug and asked her to wait, unzipping his tent to grab for his blanket. He almost hit the back of Nino’s calf in search for an end of the blanket to pull on. He brought the blanket’s edge around his shoulders, letting a big portion of the fabric drape across his shoulder as he accepted his cup back. He held the rest of the blanket with his long arm and shrugged his shoulder, beckoning Marinette to come closer and share the blanket with him. As a friend.

He was miserable without being able to touch her.

They sat back down on the pillows, shoulders barely touching. She accepted the other end of the blanket with a thankful smile, and draped the remaining fabric over her thin frame. They sat in comfortable silence, letting the smoke billow up and the blanket cover them from the chill. He sipped from his cup contently, at ease with her next to him.

Soft, strained laughter made its way out of Marinette’s throat. “No, I don’t think Alya’s okay with sleeping away from her boyfriend. Alya’s been trying to get me to change tents with Nino the entire trip over. This was supposed to be their getaway from home.”

“Is that what the both of you were talking about in the back of the van?” Nino had wanted to drive for the majority of the car trip, saying that whoever drived was always considered the designated controller of the speakers. Alya had sent him in the passenger seat, claiming that his legs would cramp in the back seat no matter how much space he was given. His chance to try to warm himself up to talking to Marinette had been squished.

Marinette and Alya had spent the entire car ride talking in hushed voices in the back of the van, and Adrien wasn’t able to hear them over the sound of the speakers. Marinette had been stained permanently red from whatever blush had come up throughout the trip by the time they had made it to the park they were camping at. At the time, Adrien hadn’t understood what the fuss was about.

“Y--yeah.” She took a sip from her own cup.

“I’m sorry.” He found himself speaking before he was able to think of something to say, fingers white-knuckling around his mug. “I know I make you uncomfortable sometimes. It wouldn’t have been ideal.”

Marinette turned to him as best as she could on her floor pillow, trying her best not to jostle her hot chocolate. “No-- no you don’t-- make me uncomfortable. Honestly-- I-- I’m just really shy.”

He knew that wasn’t true. He knew for a fact that Marinette wasn’t shy with anything except when it came to Adrien. Marinette was vocal about everything and anything with everybody. He’d seen her bicker with akumatized people just as he showed up to take her away from trouble, and even when tossed over his shoulder to run she’d continue to ask them to let go of the akumas in them. Marinette was brave-- and he knew that-- and _she knew that--_ but she couldn’t tell Adrien.

He wanted to cry. He was a coward who couldn’t tell her.

“Still though,” He cleared his throat as he felt a wave of tears threaten to take over his voice. “I don’t ever want to purposely make you uncomfortable, Marinette. You’re one of my closest friends. Being in a tent together would’ve made you uncomfortable.”

And incredibly difficult to explain if he had pulled her on him in the middle of the night like he usually did under the context of being Chat Noir. It was one thing to explain doing it when he did it all the time. It was another to try to make an excuse when he was just his civilian self.

“I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable. Alya’s just been pressuring me to pair up with you since the beginning of time, it feels like.” She ducked her head, shy. Her cap’s strings bobbed at the movement, and she pulled at her collar as if she was uncomfortable. “I used to have a huge-- _huge--_ crush on you when we were younger. She took hold of it and has been running with the idea that we’re perfect for each other ever since then.”

He nearly choked on his drink. “Really?”

“It was embarrassing.” She placed the cup down and rubbed her fingers together for warmth. “B-- but trust me, the crush is gone now, don’t worry.”

“G--gone?” Was the sky spinning, or was he just seeing things? Was he melting? Even while sitting he felt like the world had been pulled out from underneath him. She used to have a crush on him. She used to have a crush on _him._ Only to give it up to-- to-- date Chat Noir. His breath crumbled in his lungs, suffocating and painful in the cold air.

“I mean it’s been years now, and we’re good friends like you’ve said and-- well I just-- well-- I have a boyfriend.” He saw her visibly bite her tongue at that. Her eyes widened at what she’d just said, nervously patting at her Chat Noir pajama pants, finally realizing that she’d admitted to having a crush on him. “I don’t think-- and the tent is so small-- it would be like sharing a bed and--”

“I-- Oh-- you do?” He had no words, staring at her with wide, slow-blinking eyes. Marinette had never referred to him as her-- her-- _oh._ Oh. Wait. Hold on. “But Marinette I would never-- uh-- and I never knew-- I’m sorry--”

Something rattled in his chest, threatening to make him cough. Inhaled the hot chocolate into the wrong tube, he reasoned, but he couldn’t focus on it now. Marinette referred to him as _her boyfriend._ She used to have a crush on him. The firepit was too loud in his ears. It was too hot under the blanket, surely that was it.

She smothered her nervous laughter into her cup, gazing behind her to see if Alya stirred at all in her tent. They didn’t have to worry about Nino, with his noise-canceling headphones. A bear could come in and take all their food and Nino wouldn’t notice. Or a boar. Many boars. Wolves. Cows. An entire procession of cows. With cowbells. Adrien could scream at the top of his lungs-- and he was very close to doing it-- and Nino would be completely deaf to all of it. “No, no, I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to suggest that you’d do something. I know you wouldn’t. It just wouldn’t feel okay to me.”

“Right. Yeah I’m-- sorry. I never knew you had a boyfriend.” Adrien couldn’t breathe. She had a crush on him. Had. The stars in her eyes were blinding. “How-- how long?”

She blushed. How was he supposed to survive this? Oh-- and she’d never called him her boyfriend before, at least not to his knowledge. They kissed a lot, they played video games, he helped her study and she would let him catnap on her chaise during the afternoon sun, but-- well-- there was only so much dating they could do when one of them was masked as one of the Heroes of Paris and was also a coward that couldn’t tell the girl he loved and dated that he was a civilian that she knew and-- Adrien wanted to _kick_ himself.

“Two years, maybe. That sounds about right, I guess?” She spoke so softly that he almost missed it in his turmoil.

He felt faint. “Two years?”

“We don’t really have an anniversary.” She had the idea to be sheepish as he stared at her, scratching the back of her neck with her fingers while she worried her lip between her teeth. She broke eye contact with him in favor of looking down at her cup which was only left with the small dots of undissolved chocolate spots. Adrien couldn’t stop staring at the way the firelight illuminated her face.

“He’s… very lucky to have you.” Adrien managed to say after a long pause in the conversation, his hands flexing hard around his own cup. Thoughts of being called her boyfriend so casually to anyone else made his entire body heat up in warm thoughts, and it made him want to take off his sweater from how sweaty the back of his neck was starting to get. If he could drown himself at the lake, he would’ve.

“He’s a private person,” She tried reasoning to him, under the impression that he was upset. “I don’t mention him because I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

Only half-true. Everyone knew who Chat Noir was, and even Marinette herself knew that he talked about his life as best as he could under the circumstances of not being able to reveal his secret identity. It would make him absolutely delighted to hear Marinette mention him even more in casual conversations like this.

“I can relate to being a private person,” Adrien chose to say, leaning hard onto his life-of-fame outlook. “Does Alya know about him?”

Marinette frowned. “No. Please don’t tell her. She’d never let me hear the end of it. We’ve never really discussed if we were going to tell others but I think it’s for the best we don’t. Alya wouldn’t leave us alone.”

Especially since it was Chat Noir. Alya would suffocate the both of them. The fact that he could envision it with such clarity made him grit his teeth.

He winced sympathetically. “I get you. Don’t worry, Marinette. Your secret’s safe with me. I promise. And don’t worry about your-- ah-- boyfriend. I hope he’s a nice guy.”

She nodded a bit too enthusiastically. “Oh. He’s wonderful.”

She gladly took his cup once he was done drinking the rest of the hot chocolate, and stood up to bin it. His hands clammed cold against the fabric of his pajama pants, and he wiped them against his thighs. He needed to tell her.

Seriously. He _needed_ to tell her.

It wouldn’t be okay to continue this lie in front of her-- especially since she called him her boyfriend to his face even though they’ve never talked about it-- god what was he supposed to say to her when they saw each other again back at her house? How was he supposed to continue doing what he was doing now that he knew that she had a crush on him once? He was going to _faint._

He pulled out his phone while she pittered behind him, and cursed at the blinking empty spot on the top left corner of his screen. No signal. He couldn’t even text it to her even if he wanted to. He refreshed the messaging app just as a last measure, looking for anything that could come through. Nothing.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried earlier today, hitting refresh over and over on the app looking for new messages. He’d typed and then untyped messages on how he would tell her what he’d been trying to prepare himself to say for weeks. Everytime he thought he had gotten a message that looked perfect, he thought of the way Marinette smiled and laughed, and realized that he would break into a thousand little cataclysm pieces if he messed this up and lost it. Lost her.

Was he a coward? Could he truly not just turn to her and open his mouth and say the words that he’s been trying to say all night ever since he came out of his tent and started poking at the fire, longing for her to be right next to him and happy that they were together? And not have to hide behind a stupid hexleather domino mask and have Plagg complain to him that he was being too much of a lovesick idiot to do anything about it except just continue to go to her house?

Was he not able to confess his true feelings to a girl who had literally just spoken about having a crush on him to the point that their friends had tried to set her up on numerous occasions with him? And yet, his mouth remained shut. Coward. He was a _coward._

“Marinette?” He turned to look for her, surprised that she was returning to her seat with an apple. He pocketed his phone, shy. He watched her eat, battling his mouth and brain for words to form and speak and _say it._

“Adrien? Everything okay?” She looked as nervous as he did.

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s okay.” His tongue felt too big for his mouth. He didn’t want to ruin this. She was the greatest thing to happen to him. He couldn’t do it. Even if it made him flounder and upset at his cowardice, he couldn’t tell her. If something happened to their relationship because she was upset about it being him, Adrien would never be able to live it down.

“Are you sure?” He watched a trail of juice from the apple curl down her wrist.

“Oh, yeah. You should tell me more about him.” Adrien almost thunked his head back into the log behind him, disappointed in the way his voice sounded desperate. Anything to get Marinette from questioning why he looked like he was about to faint.

She looked up at him in between long lashes, adoration so crystal clear on his face. No. He definitely couldn’t tell her that it was him. “He’s my best friend. He’s my whole world.”

“More than Alya is?” He hoped he didn’t sound winded.

“Absolutely more.” She passed the apple between her hands, the puff at the end of her cap bobbing with her movements. “Oops. Don’t tell her that.”

He grabbed for the metal poker, letting his hands fidget with the sticks and the slow crackle of the fire. “What makes him your best friend?”

“He just knows so much about me. We spend so much time together. We’re hardly ever apart.”

“What’s your favorite moment with him?”

He knew her well enough to recognize her nostalgic gaze up to the starlit sky. He recognized her smile-- reminiscing with such raw longing that Adrien had to give a double take in her direction. He wondered what specific moment she was thinking about. He wondered what moment he would pick if she ever asked him.

He remembered the days he would show up at her trap door, looking for somewhere to stay after a fight with his dad. Back when things were simple and Marinette was the only thing that could fix it.

Who was he kidding? Marinette was still the only thing that could fix it.

He remembered after the first few Akuma fights, when he would show up at her door just as a courtesy to check in if she was okay-- the Akuma fights where Marinette would be in the middle of the fight begging the akumatized person to change their mind-- and he would stay for hours. Under the pretense that he was concerned for a citizen of Paris, of course.

He remembered when she cried on his for the first time-- something had happened at school that he had never understood because Marinette was a silent cryer when she cried, and didn’t speak other than the occasional curse word. He remembered when he cried on _her_ for the first time. That was when he found out that she smelled like milksoap-- and the scent had clung to his nose like a blanket for the entirety of the following day. The following school day he had felt that he was floating, drifting away in a cloud of milksoap. He’d been useless during that following Akuma attack.

He remembered their first kiss-- how could he not? The memory was _seared_ into his head for the rest of time. It was one thing for him to lay on her bed while they watched cartoons together. It was another to lean towards her, hogging her body pillow, while she looked at him with wide expectant eyes. She wanted something from him, and he wasn’t sure what. A gentle little smile. Her breath caught on something. He couldn’t stop looking at her. What other choice did he have but to kiss her in that moment? 

In her soft pajamas? Hair down? Cherry lip balm? The smell of hot chocolate on her breath? He wasn’t a fool. He had never been more sure of something in his life.

He still couldn’t remember what the cartoon was about.

Plagg had made fun of him for the entire day following it. He couldn’t help himself. All he wanted to do for the rest of his life was kiss her.

“My favorite memory would be… well. There was a day where he found out I have freckles.” Her voice took him out of his thoughts, and he nearly missed it.

“Your-- your freckles?” He tilted his head, trying to give the impression that he had been paying attention.

Marinette’s eyes softened towards the fire, completely lost in thought. Adrien tried not to lose his breath. Even wind-chilled, and lips chapped, she made his heart hurt. “It was late, once. I think we were watching a movie at my place.”

It had been his idea to watch the movie. He had been absolutely certain that she would’ve loved the movie-- and he was still sure-- but they’d never finished. The entire time he had completely ignored it in favor of playing a game with her on trying to put his head on her lap without her trying to push him off the bed. She had laughed the entire time while he was trying, advocating on closing the movie app in favor of letting him cuddle. He’d gotten too close to her face, in the process-- her laughter had died down. Her eyes were so much more bluer up close.

She had freckles. He remembered counting them-- a smattering of dots across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheekbones. He’d lost track after twenty, since she’d broken away from him, stammering over her words that reminded him of when she talked to him as Adrien. It hadn’t taken a lot of brain power to realize that their movie night was done. He’d gone home after apologizing, and could barely look at her in the eye the next day.

“He looked at me like he had finally realized what I looked like,” Marinette laughed to herself, taking a bite of her apple. She was nearly done with it, Adrien noticed too late. SHe was going to get up soon. Maybe even head to bed. “It was the sweetest little moment we had, I feel like. I think about it all the time.”

Adrien could only keep the polite smile on his face for so long. Was she yearning for him? Did she know how much he wanted to burst from being so close to her but having to be a complete stranger? Did she know that he wanted to drown himself in the lake from how awake he was? If they parted for the night, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for the next week and a half. Plagg would never stop teasing him about it for the rest of time. If only she knew what he was going through. He tried not to choke on his tongue as his mouth ran over itself. “Marinette? I want to tell you something.”

She turned away from the fire to look at him fast enough to give him whiplash. “Oh. Did I-- I’m sorry-- did I over talk?”

“No, no not at all!” He could hear the strain in his voice. _I’m here. I’m right here. It’s me._ “I just. I just. Uhm.”

She tried to appease him. “Oh. If it’s about me having a crush on you, it’s okay. We’re just friends.”

He was an _idiot._ A huge idiot. _Say the words. Say them._ She was right there. Hugging distance. Kissing distance. He wanted to kiss her so badly. “No-- well. It’s about the ‘you having a crush on me’ part, yes, but not just that.”

“Go on?” She winced at the weakness of her voice.

“I’m sorry.” Oh, he really wanted to drown himself now. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he say it? He fought akumas harder than this, and he had bruises to prove it. Why couldn’t he just _say the words?_ His hands were shaking in his lap. He was freezing and on fire. His miraculous ring was never more interesting than it was as he twisted it on his finger with his other hand.

She frowned, not at all understanding. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I’m sorry for not knowing you had a crush on me when we were younger.” He was the emotional equivalent of grasping at straws, desperate for himself to be able to say the words in the most graceful way. Chat Noir was a coward. He wondered if Ladybug would be mad if she knew that he was floundering on telling a girl his true feelings.

“Oh-- oh. That’s-- that’s fine.”

“It isn’t. I should’ve realized.” He was nervous enough to rake an entire hand into his hair. “I should’ve seen the signs. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought you had been just a best friend at the time.”

“Seriously-- it’s-- it’s fine.” She waved him away. “It was such a long-- _long--_ time ago. We were children.”

Adrien could do nothing but be silent for the following minutes. Marinette had a boyfriend now. Of course she would be over him. Even though she was still dating him. What a confusing mess…

Would she still be over him after he told her? If she walked away, or zipped herself in her tent? The following day of hiking would be awkward and terrible. Oh, God. He didn’t want to lose her. If he sat here and ignored everything-- continued to stare into the fire, with her at his side-- would he be able to withstand the rest of the weekend? She was understanding, and she was kind, but he couldn’t help himself from trying to preserve one of the best things to happen to him.

Would it hurt if he fell face first into the fire? Anything would be more bearable than this. He would never be able to model again-- no more money, fine. Who cared? He’d be dead. Maybe. He could feel it bubbling in him, threatening to escape his mouth in whichever way it could.

“I-- I’m Chat Noir.” He bit his tongue so hard he could taste copper, trying to stop himself from talking. He managed to hold back a string of curses that tried slipping through.

She nearly dropped her apple, which was now mostly cored, searching his face for a joke. “I-- hold on-- what?”

“I’m Chat. I’m Chat Noir.” He barreled through it like ripping off a bandaid, refusing to make eye contact. “I know you were talking about me being your boyfriend. For two years. It’s-- I’m-- I’m Chat Noir.”

“Are-- are you sure?”

“What?” It was his turn to frown at her. Was she starting to smile? “What-- huh? What do you mean ‘am I sure’?”

“Are you sure you’re Chat Noir?”

He had the audacity to look down at his miraculous ring, wondering for a split second if he had hallucinated the past four years of his life. “I think so.”

She threw her hands around him tight, fisting the back of his sweater with her hands. The apple went flying from her hand, past his tent, and somewhere into the bushes-- snapping twigs along its path. The fire crackled low as the last stick in the firepit burned, the branding heat leaving way to the chill air. He paid no mind to any of it, his nose full of milksoap, and his hands full of soft fabric from her layers of long sleeves. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I know, Adrien-- I’ve been waiting for you to tell me for a long while now.”

“How did you--” He couldn’t help himself from pulling her closer, burying his face into her shoulder, feeling faint and overwhelmed. He couldn’t feel the log behind him, and he couldn’t feel his toes.

She curled her hand in his hair, and Adrien nearly lost his mind. The entire time he had felt guilty about keeping this from her and she’d accepted him with open arms. He would argue that crying was absolutely a valid response. “You slipped up once when you talked about your dad.”

He smothered her, pulled her into his lap to wrap the blanket around them. “I did?”

She shook her head, the strings of the cap falling across her shoulders again. He tucked the stray piece of hair back underneath her cap, hands buzzing from the ability to touch her. “You were telling me what happened-- you mentioned Nathalie-- about how your dad doesn’t talk to you anymore. It doesn’t matter, it’s okay. I wanted to say something, but I knew you would feel horrible. I wanted you to tell me on your own time.”

“Marinette-- my god-- I’ve been going crazy this entire day. For the past two years. God.” He tried his best not to squish her while he hugged her, but he couldn’t contain himself. She laughed, and hugged him just as hard, squeezing all of the air in his lungs out. “I couldn’t fall asleep without you.”

“I couldn’t either,” She confessed into his shoulder. “It was terrible. Alya hogs the sheets. She complains about me moving around too much. I honestly was starting to go nuts, I’m so tired. I was about to somehow convince you that we needed to sleep in the same area together.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you.” He kept his laughter down at the little pinch she gave him at his side. He couldn’t stop himself from pressing kisses to her forehead, at the edge of where her cap met her hairline. “I’ll have you know, I’m an expert sleeper.”

She kissed him sweetly on the lips. Adrien tried not to sniffle too hard. “Believe me, we’ll sleep fine from now on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wanna follow me on tumblr? Click [here!](https://fragileizy.tumblr.com)  
> Want to join the discord server where the secret santa was hosted? Click here!
> 
> again, happy new year's! stay safe out there!
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> FragileIzy <3


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